


Never Could Imagine

by satonawall



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-13
Updated: 2014-11-13
Packaged: 2018-02-25 07:04:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2612699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/satonawall/pseuds/satonawall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Santana thought she was just going on another diplomatic mission, but instead she found something (someone) else entirely.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Could Imagine

Santana hated diplomacy. She hated the chitchat and the interpreters and the constant travelling, and above all she hated most of the people she had to negotiate with.

Not even riding was the same thing when it was towards a stuffy noble who had something of importance to the Desert King. Santana liked riding, but it was much better when the occasion was leading an army to battle.

And the situation was not really made better at all that she really hated the kingdom she was riding towards.

Everything about Lima was displeasing for her. It was governed by a slimy man she immensely disliked, it had forests that she as a desert-bred through and through had never understood and frequently got lost in (not that she would admit to that if anyone ever asked her about it) and it seemed that the brains of its nobility had rotted along with the country’s overall importance in foreign policy.

She was so glad that Blaine had been largely preoccupied with the southern areas of his kingdom since ascending to the throne.

Like it had sensed her thoughts, a tree branch almost hit her in the face, and she only narrowly avoided it by quickly ducking.

As a reflex, she glanced around herself to see if someone had seen the embarrassing incident and if she needed to glare someone into submission. It was incredibly stupid, she had the time to think, because why would there be anyone in the forest-

And then she saw it.

Not it.

On a steady-looking branch, leaning against the trunk of a tree less than ten feet away off the path into the forest, sat a woman. Her golden hair was falling on her face and obscuring some of it from Santana’s gaze, but Santana had plenty to look at with her long, limber legs stretched along the length of the branch, her hands working expertly at what seemed to be a wooden doll, and especially her torso, covered by the flimsiest, shortest, most form-fitting dress Santana had ever seen a woman wear of her own accord. The fabric was green, but Santana couldn’t for the life of her figure out what kind of fabric it was. It looked like leaves, somehow.

It had to be a forest spirit, Santana thought. She’d never seen a picture of one, since there was little use to placate one when you lived in the realm of sand spirits, but she liked to think that she recognised a goddess when she saw one.

Quickly getting off her horse, she began approaching the spirit carefully, hoping not to startle her.

Like it had sensed Santana, the spirit looked up, pushed her hair behind her ears and gave her a wide smile that made Santana’s head spin a little.

“Are you the knight of the Desert that Lord Tanaka is waiting for?”

“Yes,” Santana said. She didn’t know why a forest spirit would care who was visiting, but maybe forest spirits were more territorial over their homes than sand spirits.

“Your horse says that you are a very good person, so I’ll forgive you for sneaking up on me.”

She felt her cheeks grow hot. Lady Santana Lopez, reduced to blushing by a compliment from a- Well, at least it was not a mere mortal, she thought to calm herself. And it wasn’t like any of her soldiers would have been able to resist either.

“That is very gracious of you, my lady,” she said, bowing her head.

“You needn’t do that,” the spirit said, and Santana might have imagined it (she probably did) but it seemed like there was a hint of blush on the spirit’s cheeks. “A spider will fall inside your shirt.”

Unable to resist, Santana laughed as she and her horse came to a halt by the spirit’s tree. “Would it be untoward of me to ask for your name, my lady?”

The spirit set aside the doll and turned towards her, swinging her legs down from the branch and leaning forwards so far that Santana could have looked inside her dress if she so fancied. (She did, but it would not have been right.)

“It’s Brittany,” the spirit said, like it was a great secret. “May I ask for something in return, you brave knight?”

“Anything.”

“Would you give me a ride back to Lord Tanaka’s castle? I can hear the hens getting hungry, and they will cry if I don’t get there very soon.”

As she spoke, Brittany turned to pull out something from under her, and it didn’t take long for Santana to realise that it was a very modest (in both senses of the word) dress, rather befitting a low-ranking servant of a noble household.

Brittany was a servant of Lord Tanaka’s.

Well, Santana said to herself, no wonder she’d made the mistake. One look at Brittany, and anyone would have thought her a spirit, so beautiful was she even as she was covering her green dress with the servant’s one, full of various stains that Santana hoped for Brittany’s own good were not from the hens.

“Of course, Brittany,” she said, offering her hand to help Brittany down from the tree. “I’m sorry. May I call you Brittany?”

“Yes, Lady Lopez,” Brittany said, and the blush was now even more visible on her cheeks. “You may. Everyone does, and I haven’t even given them permission.”

“Well then,” Santana answered as she aided Brittany in mounting the horse, “it seems only right that you call me Santana.”

“I will,” Brittany said with a shy smile that Santana could see only for a fraction of a second before taking her place in the saddle and turning her back to Brittany.

She liked to think it was more long-lasting than that, though. It was nice to imagine that as Brittany carefully put her arms around Santana’s waist for support (if only after Santana requested so, afraid that Brittany would fall) and rested her chin against Santana’s shoulder, she was smiling as happily as Santana herself.

—-

Brittany jumped off the horse before Santana rode past the gates, and Santana told herself the weird feeling in her heart was simply due to the dreading anticipation of another subpar meal offered by a dull host.

It was only when she greeted Lord Tanaka and was alerted to the presence of his interpreter by the incomprehensible-to-her translation that she realised how weird it was that such a low-ranking servant of a Lima noble spoke desert language with such fluency.

—-

Having suffered through dinner and private discussions, Santana tried relaxing by taking a bath. You could never get a decent bath in Lima, but Santana was delighted to notice that Bree, her chambermaid, had an Angellandian mother and so could at least offer her condolences and cheer Santana up with some commiseration on the subject.

As clean as she was about to get, and in more comfortable clothes, Santana stretched her feet towards the fire and asked if Bree knew someone named Brittany in the house.

“Oh, yes, Brittany the-“ She bit her lips, and did not finish the sentence. “She tends to the hens, and runs errands for the cook.”

“What’s her story?”

Bree’s brow furrowed, but she did not comment on her unusual interest. “Her parents were from the village, and I don’t know what happened to them, but Brittany has worked in the castle for as long as I can remember, and I do not believe that she has lived a quarter of a century. She has a cat that she says talks to her about what the other animals think of everyone.”

Santana filed all that away in her brain, in case she needed it some time.

“She has no relatives?”

“Not that I know of, Lady Lopez.”

Santana wanted ask about the green dress, and the wooden dolls, but she had an inkling that Bree didn’t know, that no one in the castle knew, and she liked the idea of having a common secret with Brittany.

—-

She didn’t expect to see Brittany again (it was rare to see the cook’s help even at home, and Lima was without doubt the most pretentious kingdom Santana had ever visited), but it just so happened that she was walking around the castle (she couldn’t help it; it was her hobby to amuse herself during dull journeys by trying to find the best way to invade a place) when an extremely fat cat jumped at her out of nowhere.

Luckily for it, its claws only dug into the leather of Santana’s boots, and so she was only shaking her leg instead of plotting punishments she’d be comfortable to inflict on an animal (her second horse had never been so well-behaved as after it threw her off the saddle and she braided its mane in an incredibly obnoxious manner and had a mirror installed in the stables), when Brittany ran to her.

“Lord Tubbington, no! Let go of Santana’s leg, she’s not _your_ fairytale princess!”

Oddly enough, the cat jumped off, landed on its feet and began trotting towards the pigsty. Santana pushed it off her mind immediately and turned to Brittany.

“Afternoon, Brittany,” she said, with a small bow.

Brittany blushed like no one had ever bowed to her before (which, come to think of it, was probably true), and did a little curtsey.

“Afternoon, Santana.”

“I heard that you had a cat, but I did not expect to make its acquaintance like that.”

“Lord Tubbington is so direct,” Brittany said, looking after it. “I bet he has gone off to brag to the pigs that it left a lasting impression on an army commander. I suspect that he’s stolen some of Lord Tanaka’s hunting equipment to make his story more credible.”

Santana tried not to smile at her, but it was more difficult than it looked. “Well, I hope the pigs find it amusing.”

“He did not scratch you, did he?”

“I don’t think he did.” Santana pulled her boot off and felt her leg under her breeches. “No. My poor skin is fully intact.”

“He’s been absolutely out of control after he joined that band of vagabonds.” Brittany shook her head and walked up to Santana, laying her hand on Santana’s arm. Santana felt her heart beat faster. “There must be something I can do to apologise on his behalf.”

Santana spoke before she even realised it.

“Can you get me bread, boiled eggs and your least disgusting beer? I don’t know what Lord Tanaka keeps offering to me as local delicacies, but it’s not food.”

Brittany’s eyes absolutely lit up. “I can share my dinner with you! I eat in the kitchen after dinner, you could come there.”

She wanted to say yes, she desperately did. And she knew Blaine wouldn’t mind hearing gossip about his army commander being entertained by common servants in the kitchen, but she’d only ever liked rumours about herself that were blatantly untrue and had to do with slaying dragons.

“How about you come up to my rooms instead? We’ll have some peace and quiet there.”

Besides, she really didn’t need to see what state of uncleanliness her last meals had been made in, she rationalised. There was absolutely no reason otherwise for her to want to get Brittany all for herself for some time.

—-

Lord Tanaka did not offer to organise her any amusements after dinner, which was good because Santana would have refused anyway, not only because she had a rendez-vous with Brittany but also because Lord Tanaka had the most disgusting taste in amusements she’d ever witnessed.

She was pacing her room, wondering how punctual Brittany was, and whether she’d find Santana’s room without trouble, when there was shouting in the corridor. At first, she thought it was of no matter to her, but when it went on for longer than one single curse, it became a matter to her because her nerves were frayed enough without such ruckus.

And when she left her room only to see Lord Tanaka shouting at Brittany, it became even more important.

She was by their side in a flash, pinning Lord Tanaka against the wall by his throat and whispering in his ear, in the most menacing way she could, “I don’t know what you think she did, but you’d be wise to never raise your voice at her again if you value your anatomy. If this happens again, I will know, and I will end you, and it is not going to be quick or painless. Understood?”

Lord Tanaka just stared dumbly at her, not understanding a single word, but when Santana let him go and took Brittany’s hand to pull her to her room, Brittany had tears in her eyes.

“Thank you,” she said as the door closed after them, trying to brush away the tears. “That’s the kindest thing anyone has ever said about me.”

Santana took a deep breath (she needed to get away from her angry place, now that it was just her and Brittany) and asked, “Why was he yelling?”

Having sat down on the floor, Brittany pulled her knees up to her chin and hung her head. “I’m not supposed to be up here. I don’t wear perfumes to cover my smell, and my clothes are soiled, and my place is with the animals because they’re the only ones I’m not too dumb to talk to.”

Gingerly, Santana sat down on the floor next to her and took her hand. “You’re not dumb.”

“Everyone says I am, so it becomes a truth.”

“I just said you’re not. And they couldn’t even understand our conversation if they were here, so what do they know anyway?”

Brittany hiccupped, but she still looked incredibly sad.

“You speak two languages fluently,” Santana said, holding on more tightly to Brittany’s hand. “Lord Tanaka has to pay someone to tell him every single thing I say. And I saw your dolls, in the forest. They’re really beautiful, Brittany. You’re amazing, and talented, and altogether way too good for this rotten place.”

“But you’re the only one who says that, and you’re going to leave me here when you leave tomorrow,” Brittany said, a tear falling off her cheek.

“I’m not,” Santana said without thinking. “Come with me, to the court of the Desert King. He’ll give you work, and I’ll make sure no one ever calls you stupid again.”

As Brittany looked up, her eyes were so full of hope that Santana was afraid they were both going to drown in it. “You will?”

“I will,” Santana promised, getting up and offering Brittany her hand to help her up as well.

As she got up, Brittany tackled her in a fierce hug, and Santana could do nothing but feel her warm, supple body against her own and hug back.

—-

She might have gone a little overboard, from there on, but she was Lady Santana Lopez, commander of the most fear-inducing army in the entire world, no one was going to tell that to her face. (Except Blaine, probably. That was why she wouldn’t tell him.)

First, she offered Brittany a bath, and a clean dress, both of whom Brittany accepted gladly and neither of whom was in any way odd. She gently turned down Brittany’s offer of joining in, and instead spent the time Brittany was bathing on determining which one of the few dresses she’d brought with her would suit Brittany the best.

She didn’t peek when Brittany emerged from her bath, entirely unself-conscious in her nakedness, but she had to help Brittany into the dress and although she tried keeping her eyes to Brittany’s neck, that only resulted in her determining that Brittany had the most beautiful neck she’d ever seen. They shared their meal, and Santana bit into the bread, glad to have something with which to hide her uncharacteristic shyness. The night did not bring her much reprieve as she had no alternative but invite Brittany into her bed and then try lying as peacefully as possible as Brittany cuddled against her side and pushed her head under Santana’s chin. Santana slept fitfully with Brittany’s steady breath tickling her breast, and tried to console herself with the knowledge that at least there would not be, come morning, an easy way for Brittany to detect how much Santana actually enjoyed the sleeping arrangement.

They left before noon with frosty goodbyes, although Lord Tanaka looked more flabbergasted than actually resentful that Santana was going to live up to her word and take Brittany with her.

Brittany didn’t own a horse, and she had very little belongings, so they rode Santana’s horse at a slower pace, Lord Tubbington having been coaxed into one of the saddle bags. It proved more difficult than Santana had expected to ignore the pleasant feeling in her stomach as Brittany used her as support to stay put and chattered about things that, to Santana, seemed to have nothing in common aside from the fact that Brittany was speaking of them.

The journey was not that long, consisting of only a couple of days’ travel. Brittany seemed happy, and very unsurprisingly, impressed with the large silhouette of the royal castle as they rode into the city early in the morning of the third day of their journey.

“Do you live there?” she asked almost shyly.

“Most of the time,” Santana told her. She’d spoken of her life to Brittany before, at least a couple of times at least, but it seemed that facts did not always stick to Brittany’s mind the way many other things did. Santana had tried, and failed, to not find it incredibly endearing. “I’m the commander of the King’s armies, whenever there’s a military operation, I’ll be there. But I have permanent rooms in the castle and I stay there whenever we’re not at war.”

Brittany’s voice was quiet, barely audible due to the horse and the miscellaneous sounds coming from the awakening city. “Will I be living there all the time?”

“Most likely,” Santana said, wishing she could properly see Brittany’s face. “The people who work for the King do not usually follow the army.”

“Is there much war?”

“Depends. Lately it’s been pretty quiet.”

“I know how you hate diplomatic missions,” Brittany said, pushing herself tighter against Santana’s back. “I’m really glad you decided not to hate me.”

“How could I hate you?” Santana asked.

For a moment, she was afraid Brittany wouldn’t be able to tell it was a rhetorical question and would actually answer (and Santana would kill most of the people from Lord Tanaka’s castle if she saw them ever again, after what Brittany had told her about the things that happened there; she had no interest in hearing a list of reasons people had hated Brittany before), but Brittany just sighed happily and asked about the life in the army camps.

—-

“And you brought her here?”

Santana hated Blaine.

Well, she didn’t. But she would if he wouldn’t take that knowing smirk off his face soon enough.

“You should hear the things she’s told me,” she said with an edge to her words. “You would have, too, if you’d gone instead of me.”

Happily for their friendship, Blaine seemed to know when to quit. “Take her to Emma and tell her to find her suitable work. And Santana,” he said as she was already turning away, “I expect to see her at dinner tonight. I’m dying to get to know the woman who has finally managed to worm her way into your heart.”

Santana wanted to throw something at him and king or not king, she would have if only she had had anything suitable at hand.

—-

Emma had been put in charge of domestic matters in the castle because she absolutely detested mess and dirt, but Santana had always thought it was incredibly convenient that Emma was also probably the most accommodating person she’d ever come across. She only needed a few quick looks at Santana’s face, and just like that, she’d revised her initial assessment of Brittany really enjoying herself in the stables to thinking that Brittany would really flourish if her job was to take care of the finer rooms of the castle. (To Santana’s credit, that had until then been part of Emma’s job because she didn’t think anyone else could do a good enough job, and everyone in the whole castle knew that Emma would overwork herself to death if she were allowed.)

Brittany seemed happy with her new role, and Emma left them with a loaf of bread for breakfast and the request that Brittany be in the kitchens at sun-up to receive instructions and that Santana show her to her room, a prospect which seemed to terribly excite Brittany. (It made Santana wonder where she’d slept in Lord Tanaka’s house. She had to make herself stop because she didn’t like to think of Brittany shivering in a damp hole with only a thin layer of straws to soften her bed.)

Brittany’s new room was one of the nicer ones for the servants, starting from the fact that there was no one to share it with (her subtle impressions had to be more effective than Santana had previously thought; there couldn’t be more than two or three rooms like that reserved for the servants) and certainly including the mattress, which Santana could tell was excellent even from briefly sitting down on it.

She couldn’t read Brittany’s face as she left her there, with the request that Brittany come down to dinner with her when it was time. She hoped it would be happiness, and the slight pout of Brittany’s lip was easily explained as trying not to cry at her sudden change in station.

Nevertheless, she had to cease thinking of Brittany long enough to go discuss her meeting with Lord Tanaka with Blaine. He did not mention Brittany, which Santana was glad to note, but even that did not prevent her from selecting one of her dresses and having it sent to Brittany. She would need something nice to wear for dinner, she thought. Besides, Santana rarely used dresses like that anyway. It was quite logical; she was just doing a kindness to a deserving woman.

The dinner, when it finally came about, went well. The dress suited Brittany very well, Santana was pleased to note, and Brittany smiled at her wider than Santana had ever seen as she escorted her to the dining hall and introduced her to Blaine. Blaine, just like Santana had expected, took to her immediately (he, in general, liked people a lot more than she did, so that was not a surprise) and spent half the meal discussing the matter of rebellious spirit among farmyard animals very seriously with her.

—-

Brittany seemed to have no trouble settling down at the desert court, which was not a great surprise to Santana seeing that Brittany seemed to be very adept at being happy wherever. Despite that, Santana liked to keep a close eye on her, just to make sure everything was fine. She’d dragged the poor girl out of her country into a foreign one, even if Brittany inexplicably knew the language, it was only fair that she made sure Brittany was doing fine. Besides, it really didn’t hurt that Brittany was always extremely pleased to see her, and Santana had noted that ever since Brittany took over cleaning the rooms, there were always small treats left on her table, often very coincidentally something that she’d heard was being made in the kitchen that day.

She asked about among some of the other servants as well, and it seemed to be a general impression that Brittany was happy as ever, even if most people told Santana she really got too excited about her cat.

That made it even more puzzling that one day, maybe after a month after Brittany’s arrival at court, Santana walked into her room at an unexpected time and found Brittany sitting on her bed, caressing the linen with her hands and looking the saddest Santana had ever seen her.

“Hey,” Santana said carefully as she sat down next to her and took Brittany’s hand in hers. “What’s wrong?”

“You don’t like me,” Brittany said, looking down at her lap. “I’ve been waiting for a while, but you haven’t, so you don’t.”

“Of course I like you!” Santana squeezed Brittany’s hand tighter. “Where’d you even get the idea that I wouldn’t?”

“Because you just brought me here because you were sorry for me!” Brittany let out quiet sob. “I thought you were my princess who’d come to take me to a distant castle and marry me, like my mother used to tell me before she went away, but you don’t want me. And the castle is beautiful and everyone is really nice, but you’re going to find your princess and then you’re going to live happily ever after, and I’ll just be sad Brittany who’ll change your sheets every morning.”

“No, you won’t,” Santana said, placing her other hand on top of her and Brittany’s already joined ones. “You won’t because I do want you, and I’ll never even go searching for anyone else, and _we_ are going to live happily ever after and you’ll be happy Brittany.”

She had to pause for breath, and it was only then that it really sunk in what she’d said. Not because she’d said it so quickly to cheer Brittany up that she hadn’t even been thinking and would have to go back on her word, but because she hadn’t realised it was the truth before she’d said it out loud, and she most definitely was not taking it back now that it was out there.

One of her first thoughts, bizarrely enough, was, ‘Blaine is going to be so smug about this.’

The second one was, ‘Oh dammit, she’s not saying anything she doesn’t actually want that she just-‘

The second thought was cut short by Brittany looking up, smiling at Santana like she was the best thing Brittany had ever seen, and pushing her face closer until Santana could count her eyelashes and Brittany could push her lips firmly against Santana’s in a sweet kiss.

Contrary to how Santana usually kissed (then again, she usually kissed girls she didn’t anticipate seeing ever again), the kiss turned out to stay sweet, only getting softer and more tender as Santana began to kiss back, reluctantly removing her hand from on top of Brittany’s to throw it around Brittany’s waist to pull her even closer.

“I haven’t been really happy Brittany for so long,” Brittany said as they finally pulled apart. “I forgot how nice the butterflies and earth worms are.”

Santana didn’t really know what she was talking about, but she thought she understood what Brittany meant.

—-

The good thing about Blaine was that he was very bad at actually acting smug about things he’d realised before Santana, so mostly what they got when they emerged for dinner both wearing Santana’s clothes were happy smiles and congratulations.

The other good thing about Blaine was that the man was a complete sucker for wedding planning (Santana felt sorry for the poor chap Blaine would one day marry, she really did), which came in rather handy if you wanted a huge wedding quickly, which Santana and Brittany did.

She briefly entertained the idea of inviting Lord Tanaka and then telling him and if he wanted to eat or sleep, he better cook himself and start gathering straws, but she gave up on the idea when she realised she actually had no desire to see his face ever again. Besides, seeing him would probably have made Brittany unhappy, and Santana really didn’t want that.

Marrying Santana made Brittany automatically into a noble, but Blaine insisted on having a separate ceremony for it anyway. Santana was pretty sure it was only because he wanted to test some convoluted seating arrangement he had for the wedding, but she didn’t really mind. Brittany was incredibly excited about it, too, which would have made Santana happy about it either way.

The morning of her wedding was the first one in a while when Santana woke up alone. She didn’t have too much respect for the custom that couples at least maintain two rooms until the day of the nuptials, but it never hurt to curry favour with the spirits by not doing the things explicitly said to bring bad luck, even if it meant spending the last night of her life as a single woman in a bed that was emptier than it had been in a while. She stretched for a while, then reached for the small tray of breakfast Brittany had brought her the previous night and began eating. Somewhere in the castle, she thought, Brittany was eating a similar meal, her contribution to the superstitions between them (“It brings good luck,” Brittany said, “and besides I have a great taste in breakfast foods”); the thought made Santana smile around the date she was munching on.

She’d considered wearing her army uniform to the ceremony and the party, but the idea had been discarded when she’d once carefully worked open all the fastenings of one of the fine dresses she’d gifted Brittany to celebrate their engagement and realised how incredibly tantalising the gradual reveal of more and more skin was. She’d voiced the thought to Brittany, who’d agreed that dresses had certain benefits to breeches, but had maintained that she liked to see results a little sooner. (Santana had taken that as an invitation to seat Brittany on the bed and simply push up the skirts into Brittany’s lap, but she’d made a note of Brittany’s words anyway.) Consequently, her wedding dress was fairly simple, with a revealing neckline that accentuated Santana’s bosom, but it was from the finest silks from Carmen with jewels sown to the front to make it celebratory enough. She’d heard it said that it was a tad indecent to flaunt one’s feelings and expectations by dressing in red for a wedding, but it was her best colour and besides, now that she was marrying Brittany (Lady Brittany of Pierce, now; the thought brought a smile to her lips), she was going to flaunt her happiness in any way she wanted.

They’d scheduled the ceremony for early morning because there was no way either of them could wait until afternoon or, even worse, the evening. And even now, Santana felt that she’d go crazy with anticipation just with the hour she had to wait without anything to do. She tried calming her nerves by making the bed again (not as good as when Brittany did it, but Santana was pretty sure neither of them would be paying too much attention to the sheets anyway) and otherwise tidying up the room, but it didn’t really help all that much, if at all.

Finally, though, Blaine came to tell her that it was the time, and Santana almost pushed him to the ground in her haste to get out of the room.

The ceremony was beautiful, the food for the feast was delicious, and the music was good, which was nice since Brittany was an avid dancer. Santana was sure her feet would kill her, but she was determined to go out in style and danced with Brittany well past sundown.

“I can hear your teeth grind under your smile,” Brittany finally said and took her hand. “It’s time for us to go.”

“Whenever you want,” Santana told her, but she didn’t waste any time starting to lead Brittany towards the stairs that led up to her rooms.

—-

“I almost can’t believe you’re my wife now,” she said later, drawing shapes into Brittany’s naked back with her finger.

“I can,” Brittany answered, rolling onto her back and smiling at Santana. “And I made you believe I was a spirit, I’m going to make you believe I am your wife, too.”

Santana smiled softly at her before leaning down to kiss her. “I’m looking forwards to that.”


End file.
